Collection of One-Shots

》ānogar hūra

When the war is over and done, and the blood has yet to dry on his hands, Daemon seeks you out.

TWO YEARS SLIP away in this War for the Stepstones. An ill-contrived attempt for Daemon Targaryen to prove his worth to his brother and the realm -to carve his path in the world by fire and blood. His madness is spurred by the early whispers of Corlys Velaryon, still bitter by Viserys choice to wed Alicent Hightower over Laena. Between the rejected proposal to secure his house's power and the king's disregard for the Triarchy threat, warring over the Stepstones was inevitable. But that was the early days of the war. Now it is hard to say which side is winning or losing, having turned into a bloody stalemate.

The Crabfeeder sends his men to an early grave. Corlys and Daemon do the same. Only injury has spared you from meeting the same fate -wounds from which it feels you will never fully recover. The blade cut deep, and when Daemon found you in the sands after the Triarchy retreated for the day, he was certain of your fate. Then you coughed up blood and bile and spake his name in fading breath. He took you to Dragonstone for the maesters to tend to, unwilling to entertain the thought of fighting in this war without you at his side, whether it be on the battlefield or at the war council.

But now -having rejoined the forces and after hearing of the happenings at Court- you want this farce to be over and done with. The sooner, the better. Too many have died already. Too many highborn lords laugh at the Sea Snake and Rogue Prince and their struggle against the Triarchy and pirates. And you know well enough that if Viserys has not yet sent aid to his brother and House Velaryon, there will be none to come in the future -it would be unseemly.

Caraxes casts a dark shadow on the encampment as Daemon returns. He's been absent for nigh a week roaming the Stepstones and the waters beyond. The maester looks at you then gives a terse nod -you've helped enough for the day, and it is likely you'll need to soothe the restless dragon within Daemon Targaryen. You fall into stride at his side and look him over. He's unharmed. Daemon reaches for your hand, his fingers curling around yours. Your hands are coated with the blood of those fighting to survive their injuries, his with the blood of those already dead.

Daemon unbuckles his sword belt and places Dark Sister on the table before reaching for the ties and buckles of his dark steel armor. He sits, silent, and leans back -face twisted in frustration as he glimpses the spread-out maps and markers, a reminder of what little progress they've made over the last months. His gaze flits up -watching as you dip your hands into a wash basin, scrubbing away the drying blood, before sitting on the edge of a shared cot.

You stare at the trodden ground, suffocating under the weight of the war. "How much longer must this go on, Daemon?" It's almost a whisper, weary and strained. Since trading a sword for a healer's smock, you've seen too many die -some no more than boys, too young to even know a woman's love. Daemon does not answer. He has no answer. This war could drag on for years, or it could end in a day. Daemon doesn't know which it will be, for not even Caraxes flames can smoke them from the caves. "Corlys's men are nigh spent." Three more ships were lost today, and nearly all the men crewing them. "We are outnumbered" -Daemon's lips twitch, he does not need to be lectured by you to know they are losing the war- "our supplies grow thin without the Crown's support." But Viserys is too busy with his new queen to care about the war being fought in the Narrow Sea.

He stands and braces his weight on the table -silver-white hair falling in front of his face. It's only when Daemon looks up that you can see the malice and anger in his eyes. "Flush Craghas Drahar and his men from those caves, and I'll end this war tonight," he bites. But so long as the Crabfeeder and his men remained in the caves and the Triarchy can supply new ships and men, this war will creep on, and the wheel of time will turn.